To Be Without Love
by HermioneLunaPotter
Summary: Tom Riddle is disgusted when young Anthea Burke develops a liking towards him. Written for the HPFC Snakes and Ladders Challenge.


**Wirtten for the HPFC Snakes and Ladders Challenge - **_Tom Riddle_

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_To Be Without Love_

The door bell chimed, hailing the entrance of another customer. Behind the counter, the tall, dark haired assistant flicked his dark eyes up to see a young woman glide through the opening. He smiled; well, it was more of a smirk, as he gazed upon the woman's face. Her dark hair was piled elegantly on her head and her dark, emerald robes contrasted sharply with her pale skin. He watched, intrigued, as she stowed her wand in her robes and made her way to the front counter.

"Miss Burke," he greeted her, his voice as smooth as silk. The woman's face lit up at the handsome, young man in front of her and she placed her delicate hands on the onyx counter.

"Mr Riddle," she simpered, making an effort to bat her large, dark eyelashes at him. "What a pleasant surprise."

Riddle remained contrived and he raised one, dark eyebrow; black against white skin. "I do work here, Miss Burke."

Something of a colour darkened Miss Burke's pale cheeks and she cast her eyes aside briefly. "Yes, of course," she countered. "I was just expecting to see my uncle manning the desk. Most of the time, you're out the back."

"Would you like me to get him for you?" Riddle made to leave when she gently put her hand over his. He froze at the intimate contact and glared at her coldly. The forcefulness of his gaze startled Miss Burke, and she hurried withdrew her hand, her eyes wide with fear.

"Oh, no, Mr Riddle. I wouldn't want to disturb him," she replied quietly and folded her hands in front of her. "If you could just show him this and tell him I stopped by, then I'll be on my way."

She delved into her robes and pulled out an ornate, silver candlestick and placed his proudly on the counter. Riddle admired it for a moment; his dark eyes suddenly grew hungry and he reached for the object with his long, slender fingers.

"I found it in the attic," she informed him and he recoiled his hand instantly. "I want to know how much it would sell for."

Riddle nodded solemnly and grasped the candlestick with both hands, his grip suddenly possessive. "Of course, Miss Burke. I will show this to him. If that is all – "

"Yes," she nodded curtly and made to leave. "Good day, Mr Riddle." Her voice informed him that she intended the exact opposite, but Riddle had little concern for her. His attention was focussed upon something far grander. As he looked closer, he could see the Burke family crest engraved on the base of the candlestick and his wonder grew as he realised he was holding a Burke heirloom. They were a prestigious Pureblood family, the Burkes, dating back generations. Riddle had done his research on all the famous Pureblood families, like any intelligent boy with a thirst for power. What he held in his hands was a priceless relic of one of the few, true Pureblood families left in the wizarding world and he was awed to be in its presence.

"Was that Anthea?" called Mr Burke from the storeroom.

"Yes, sir," Riddle replied with a nod. His boss poked his head out from behind the door and beamed at his young assistant with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"That's the third time this week she's come to visit her old uncle. I'd wager she's taken a fancy to you, my boy!" he boomed heartily.

Riddle scowled at the disturbing thought of such affection and fixed Mr Burke with serious eyes. "No sir," he retorted coldly. "She wanted to ask how much this would be worth." He held up the candlestick and was surprised by his boss' reaction.

"That? Where did she find that?" he roared and snatched the object out of Riddle's tight grip. "She can't sell this! It's a Burke family heirloom!" He stormed back into his shop, muttering darkly under his breath and left Riddle to stew alone for a moment. He shuddered as thought of young Anthea Burke taking a fancy to him. It disgusted him. Love was weakness; his stupid Squib of a mother should have known that when she fell for that filthy Muggle. Love had killed her. The only way to be truly powerful, was to be without love.

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**A/N: Writing from Tom Riddle's perspective was interesting, and I'd definitely do it again. I hope I captured the way he would act in this situation. He's such an interesting character. This is set during the time he was working at Borgin and Burkes - he's around 18/19 years old. Please read and review xx**


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